Giving Thanks during the Storm

There were several scriptures that I held close to my heart during my experience with breast cancer, especially during the time I was first diagnosed when there was so much uncertainty and fear.  I had a piece of linen I had received in the past, which had been referred to as a prayer cloth.  It was small enough to fit inside my Bible, so that is where I had kept it for the last several years.  I decided one day after learning about my diagnosis, I would write these verses on that prayer cloth so they would be close by.  I could just pull the cloth out of my Bible and read the verses during the day, when I was feeling worried or anxious.  I selected verses that specifically focused on the provision of God’s comfort and peace. Little did I know at the time, I would cling to these verses again in a few months during my husband’s diagnosis with cancer.

One of the verses that I wrote on my prayer cloth and one I would often read during this time of uncertainty was Philippians 4:6, which says,

 “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God”.

I was drawn to this verse initially because I thought it spoke to the anxiety that comes with a cancer diagnosis  or really any situation that  carries with it uncertainty.  I interpreted this verse simply as“do not worry about anything… bring all your concerns and your fears to God in prayer”.  Yet after I had read this verse over and over again, I realized, I simply had not paid attention to a small but yet very important phrase in that verse.  That phrase was, “with thanksgiving”.  The word “thanksgiving” in this verse seemed rather odd and sort of out of place to me.  First of all we are talking about being anxious, which brings to mind other words such as worry, distress, concern, and then we’re adding in the word “thanksgiving” in the same sentence?  It just didn’t seem like those two words would belong in the same sentence. 

As I began to study that phrase in context of the verse, I began to think about my own prayer life.  How often did I really give thanksgiving to God?   How often did I express to Him my gratitude for my family, for shelter, for my health, my life and above all for the life He gave us in His Son.  Lately my prayers seemed to consist solely of my requests, my needs, my complaints … all about ME, ME, ME.

As I mentioned earlier, right before my diagnosis, I was very unsettled. The best word to describe myself was “weary”… emotionally, physically, and spiritually. At work I loved my patients, but I was emotionally drained after many years of witnessing the havoc cancer plays on lives of so many people I would eventually become very close to.   I would spend many days grieving the loss of those I had come to care for deeply. This emotional drain in turn led me to feel physically drained.  It got to the point I would drive in to work every day with a heavy sense of dread. I would then spend the night complaining to my family about the many stresses of the day.  I would go to bed to get up the next day and repeat the same pattern day after day. In the midst of this, I eventually began to rationalize that I didn’t have time to read my Bible or participate in a Bible study because of the physical and emotional exhaustion.   Looking back, I say my prayers during that time were very “needy”, self-centered, and full of complaining, very much like God’s people in the desert when they “murmured” day after day about their circumstances, and in doing so doubted God’s provision. Even though they were free from the slavery of Egypt, their complaining still kept them in bondage. In a study I’ve done in the past by James McDonald, he says, “Those who choose complaining as their lifestyle will spend a lifetime in the wilderness.  And when you complain about trials, you are forfeiting the grace that could help you through it instead of embracing it as tool used by God to keep you humble and keep you close to Him.”  Simply saying, complaining is an attitude you chose, and it is sin.

How sad it must make God when all He hears as a response to the abundance He has given me is complaining.  And not just every now and then, but day after day after day.  But then how does thankfulness in prayer tie into times of trials?  How do you practice thankfulness with a diagnosis of breast cancer?  How could I “embrace” this situation in order to get close to God?

I simply began by thinking, “What can I be thankful for in this very moment and in this very circumstance of cancer. I thanked God my cancer was detected early.  I thanked Him that my prognosis, from what I knew at the time, was very good.  I thanked him for the “less aggressive” nature of my type of cancer.  These facts alone were miracles.  They were good things that God was doing in my life, and I had failed to acknowledge them, because I was so focused on “the bad” things.   I thanked him for my family, my friends, my church family, my co-workers,  … all who had consoled, encouraged, and lifted me up in their prayers.  Although I was in the middle of a pretty devastating experience, I still had much to be thankful for.  I realized thankfulness was a choice.  I could either keep complaining to God, or I could offer Him thankfulness for all He had done in my life.  I’m not saying that God does not want to hear our concerns, our fears, our worries, because He loves us deeply but at the same time, He is worthy and deserving of our praise.  When we offer Him praise and graciousness in our prayers, it affirms our trust in Him, not only in the good times, but during times of struggle as well.  When we can be thankful to God in the good times and in the times of uncertainty, we will reap the gift of His faithfulness. We will learn that He is a God who can be fully trusted to love us, to care for us and who will protect us during the many storms we will encounter in life.   

It's Okay to Ask "Why?"

After hearing my biopsy results, I was excited as one could possibly be while dealing with cancer, by the news that I “most likely” would not have to have chemotherapy. This was based on the type and size of the cancer I had. Of course, we would not know for sure until after the surgery, but my surgeon was very optimistic that I would not need chemotherapy.   After everything I knew about the side effects of chemotherapy and seeing first hand my patients go through the tough days of chemo, I knew that if I did not have to have chemotherapy that alone was a great blessing. Chemo is not for the weak for sure. If you have not witnessed a close friend or family member go through the effects of chemo, you have no idea of the strength and determination these women possess. I have such an admiration for them.

An interesting thing I noticed after being diagnosed with cancer is you tend to become overly sensitive to words and meanings, especially words used by medical professionals. One day I was discussing my pre-surgical visit with my oncologist, who I just also happened to work with at the time.  Although you typically don’t see an oncologist before surgery, I wanted to get her advice and input. She had already reviewed by records. She suggested we make all my appointments at one of our smaller offices.  She said, “Why don’t we just plan on doing everything there, since we are not as busy”.  For most people, those words would not have meant much, but in my line of work, “everything” meant “EVERYTHING” and “EVERYTHING” meant chemotherapy. My heart began to race and I began to feel this overwhelming sense of panic as I thought, “She thinks I’m going to have to have chemotherapy.  Why would she think that?  She must think they will find something worse during surgery”. Most people would have clarified their questions at that time, but I just let her walk off. The fear of hearing something I didn’t want to hear was greater than my need to get clarification. I was afraid what her answer would confirm.

As my sense of panic continued, my thoughts continued to race in my mind. I was thinking about my upcoming surgery, the emotional impact of a mastectomy, the pain after surgery, the process of reconstructive surgery, and now the possibility of adding chemo into the picture.   When I rationally looked at what my reasons for dreading chemotherapy were, it seemed initially my concern was focused on the hair loss.  I wasn’t sure if I could handle that in addition to the nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, bone aching, mouth sores, taste changes, skin rashes and on and on.  Again, sometimes as a nurse, you can know too much.

 Looking deeper into what the issue might have been, I realized it was not necessary about hair loss only, but is about loss… It was about losing a breast, losing hair, and mostly for me, losing control of my life.

Since I was at work that day, I realized I needed to gather my thoughts for the day and get to a more rational state of mind.  I was doing pretty well until I had two more experiences that day that literally caused me to hit rock bottom… the lowest point I had been to since finding out I had breast cancer. It began when I met with a 34 year old woman who had been such a trooper throughout her entire chemo treatment and radiation. When I would see her in the treatment room, no matter how bad she felt, she was always very upbeat and positive. She was always encouraging other patients who were not doing well. She and I were meeting that day to talk about survivorship, a term used for issues dealing with life after cancer. As a nurse practitioner, I usually met with patients after they completed treatment to discuss several issues related to survivorship, such as diet, exercise, the importance of regular follow-up, etc.   She smiled and listened attentively. She had no questions, but her husband said he had several. He asked me “How will we know for sure it is gone?  How will we know if it comes back?  They didn’t find it on the mammogram, so how can we be sure, it won’t come back”.  The uncertainty about his wife’s future continued in his questions. I began to feel my emotions take over. Now I could truly empathize with this couple, because I had the same thoughts.  I knew at some point I would be asking these same questions.  I knew for the rest of my life, I would have to deal with the fear a possible recurrence.  How would I do that? 

After that visit, I went back to my desk and looked at my schedule and saw I would be seeing a patient as a work-in visit.  It was Michael.  “On no”, I thought.  “I don’t think I can handle this, Lord”, I prayed. “Why today of all days?  Why Michael.”

I had grown very close to him. It was hard seeing him that day… losing weight, in a wheelchair, learning about his falls at home as his weakness continued to increase. It was hard seeing his wife so weary in appearance. Her face showed the strain of caring for a dying husband. He had been battling melanoma for some time. I told him most likely his cancer was worsening, which was causing the swelling in his brain, which was the reason for the weakness in his legs and his inability to walk.  During our visit, his wife left the room to answer a call. Once she was gone, he asked “Is this how it’s going to be?  Tell me what I can expect to happen?  I need to know how it’s going to be”.  I thought, “Lord, why is this happening today”? We talked and I tried to prepare him the best I knew how from a medical standpoint for what he was facing.  I was amazed at his sense of peace. How could he have such peace in his situation?  He had lived a life I personally witnessed as one lived for Christ. He openly expressed his trust and faith. He loved and trusted God.  He knew that leaving this world would be hard, but he was going to a place much better… a place where cancer does not exist.

I left work that day, weary both physically and emotionally, and questioning God about many things.  “Why is a good person dying? Why do people have to suffer?  Why is life so unfair?  Why is there cancer?  Why did I get cancer? Why? Why? Why?  The boys and Jeff were at church that night.  I went home and lay in bed and sobbed. I cried for Michael, I cried for all my patients who lived with cancer and those who had died of cancer, I cried for myself.  When Jeff came home that night, I was in such a state of despair.  I was really inconsolable. He suggested I soak in the tub. I grabbed a magazine on the way. I lay in the tub and picked up the magazine which was a devotional I subscribe to by David Jeremiah. I had a stack of about ten of these devotionals that I had still yet to read. The title of the devotional was “Perfect Piece”. I thought “PEACE” is really what I need now. I turned the page and read the following words,

“Only God is able to take decades of pieces from our experiences and create a garment of beauty, purpose, and uniqueness”

“We wouldn’t get where God intends us to go without adversity”.

“He designs every stitch of our time and every patch of our lives, weaving and sewing them together until He has made of us something beautiful in His eyes”.

“We have a Savior who can weave a garment of praise from the torn scrapes, ragged remnants, and tangled threads of life. “

“Our lives are in the hands of a skillful Weaver, who can use the roughest of materials to make the most glorious of garments”.

It was as if God was clearly speaking to me. He was going to use this ragged remnant called cancer and turn it into a glorious garment that would ultimately glorify Him. He designed this day, this moment, this very event in my life for a purpose, and I knew that He would remain faithful to me to see me through whatever circumstance I would encounter.  I knew God had placed this adversity in my life for a purpose.  I may not understand the “whys” right now, and that was okay, but ultimately, I knew it would be for His glory.

I prayed and wrote in my journal that night:

“God, thank you for giving me these words. Thank you for being the designer of the fabric of what you see as my life. I know You are in control.  You will be with me during this trial . I know this to be true, Lord.”

I was in awe that night of how clearly God spoke to me.  All my anxiety was replaced by a peace that I can’t explain.  I felt a sense of calm and a reassurance that only He could have provided. It was okay to ask “Why?”  Although all my questions may have not been answered that night, one thing I knew that I would never have to question was God's faithfulness to me.